The End of Something
by PiffPoffSplash
Summary: Jack and Barbossa have more in common then they would like to admit. A friendship, or lack of friendship, story.


**The End of Something**

Barbossa watches Jack walk towards the Kraken. The lad's pace is somber. There is no trace of his swagger or his cheeky grin. Everything has been replaced by the mounting reality that even they are facing extermination. The West India Trading Company has somehow become a scourge upon the water. Their very presence on the ocean shames Pirates and their code, or lack of code, as it is.

Pintel and Ragetti climb upon the Kraken. They only see a beast to poke with a stick. For a moment, Barbossa considers saying, "we lost something today, mate," but he can't bring himself to say anything. He knows Jack is the only one who will understand. He imagines Jack nodding his head. "The last of her kind, this little beastie was," he would respond. Their words would be lost on everyone else.

Barbossa never called Jack a friend. A fact that he openly and often, drunkenly and loudly, admits in brothels and taverns. However, with the Kraken dead before him, Barbossa is happy that Jack is at his side. Brotherly love has nothing to do with it. While he wouldn't so much as whisper it, even while alone, there is a common thread that links the men. Though thin, it remains in tact years after their first meeting. Understanding this is enough to remind Barbossa why he can't stand the man standing but a few feet before him.

Barbossa steps in front on Jack, "Still thinking about running, Jack?" Barbossa's words are cold. "Still think you can out run the world?" He spares Jack no sympathy. "You know, the problem with being the last of anything, is that by and by, there'll be none left at all."

A world without pirates is a blight to the ocean. She belongs to them. Who else would listen to her cries if their ships disappeared. The ocean longed to feel their ships slide through her waves and anchors drag against the dirt laying in wait at the bottom of the sea. Pirates alone knew her secrets. Barbossa would be damned if the East India Trading Company tried to take that away from him.

"Sometimes things come back, mate. We're living proof, you and me." For the first time since they've known one another, they truly smile at each other. At this moment, Jack and Barbossa understand each other.

Barbossa is the first to come back to reality. "Aye, but that's a gamble of long odds, ain't it? There's never a guarantee of coming back. But passing on, that's dead certain."

The simple truth is that Barbossa hasn't the slightest idea of how either men are still standing. Both Jack and Barbossa have felt death. Barbossa won't make it sentimental because it's not. Barbossa beat the odds once and he won't be retrying that journey again. And yet, there they stand. Two Pirates in the truest of words. This is their fight. One that won't be won over my smooth words or tricks.

Jack's eye's grow dark again. "Summoning the brethren court then, is it?"

Barbossa wonders why Jack is asking. Part of him is certain Jack wants to hear him say, 'no.' That Jack is prepared to go on pretending their world is not threatened.

Denial gets you no where. Barbossa learned that harsh fact the first time he saw his pale bones in the moonlight. Running can't help you when reality is already biting at your heels. "It's our only hope, lad."

"That's a sad commentary in and of itself." Spoken without a hint of his Devil may care attitude.

"The world used to be a bigger place."

Back when Jack was a foolish child and Barbossa only saw someone to take advantage of. Back when even Barbossa felt he could show the youth the world. When islands had yet to be claimed and pirates still feared the ominous shadow lurking below their ships. It was a different world. One that wasn't defined by maps alone.

"The world's still the same. There's just…less in it." The look on Jack's face is all wrong. Tight-lipped, jaw clenched, and his eyes screaming of uncertainty.

Jack makes no sound as he walks away. The wind becomes harsh on Barbossa's face. Maybe it's the sun or his growing thirst but something about Jack's dark eyes unnerves him.

What can you say when you're standing at the brink of the beginning of the end. Barbossa has been called a great deal of names, many of which he deserves, but naïve ain't one of them. Going on pretending will give the East India Trading Company an advance he won't allow. These waters are his by right, even if no one else agrees and usually, no one does. Barbossa doesn't take to kindly to anyone trying to challenge that.

Scattered around the beach are memories of a world that is slowly fading. Only a handful of the men walking up the beach realize what it means to be a Pirate. Barbossa looks towards Jack. Towards one of the few remaining men who would understand him. Pirates aren't made for heartfelt conversations on the beach. So Barbossa doesn't stop Jack and he never will. This isn't something that will change their friendship, or lack of friendship. But for a brief second, Barbossa feels as though Jack might be right. That Barbossa and Jack are part of a fading world.

* * *

><p>Oddly enough, this was supposed to be about Jack's feelings towards the Kraken's death. Barbossa somehow took control of this story.<p>

I just needed to write something to pull me back into fanfiction. irates of the Caribbean seems like the best fandom to do that.


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